Bound

It was bound to happen.

No one can defy the odds by such a great margin.

But still, I  was a little surprised to hear that the x-rays confirmed the break.  My wrist at the base of my thumb, is indeed broken.  Of course it's on my right hand, and located in a place where the blood flow isn't so great, thus increasing the time it takes to heal.

I know people who when asked to explain how they got their broken bones, could only say they slipped off a curb or fell into a sprinkler hole.  I have to admit, I'm glad my story has a little more grit.  I broke a bone in my wrist riding quads with the big boys, on what my brother in law Jason calls "black diamond difficulty" for riding trails.   I didn't have a major crash or even fall off the quad, but while riding up a hill and trying to navigate some deep ruts, I hit one at a bad angle, with a lot of speed.  My wrist jammed into the handle bars hard enough that I thought I might puke. I didn't, but I did ride the 5 miles back to the cabin using my left hand on the accelerator and my right forearm to steer.

By Saturday I decided x-rays might be a good idea.  That's when the doctor informed me that I'd need to meet with a specialist to determine if a cast or surgery was the next step.  Monday the specialist told me I'd be wearing a long cast, well above my bent elbow for 6 weeks followed by a short cast for another 6 weeks.  At week 2 they'd take a CT scan to determine if surgery would be necessary.  So best case scenario was 12 weeks in a cast, with no movement of my thumb and no use of my right hand.  

Now I'd love to report that I took the news like a champ, kept a clear head and everything in perspective.    And I could tell you that, but it would be a total lie!!  Truth is I had myself a grand pity party right in my head, sorry you weren't invited, but it was a pretty big deal.  It lasted right up until they put a gigantic pink cast on my arm that weighed the exact same amount as all of North America, and I am not one to exaggerate.  Oh and have I mentioned that I am claustrophobic? Well, I am.   My pity festivities, were put to shame by the anxiety that enveloped me like a second skin.  I had to remind myself to just breath in and out and tried every form of distraction while waiting for medication at the pharmacy.  I now refer to this day as Meltdown Monday.  It wasn't pretty.

After a brief conversation Tuesday morning with my doctor, I was headed back in for "Plan B".  I couldn't get there soon enough.  It's true, I went back to see my doctor while still in my pajamas, fuzzy slippers and all.  My long cast was removed in short order and an outside vendor was called in to teach me how to use an ultrasound machine through a port in my cast.  20 minutes two times a day using this bone growth stimulator and if all goes well I'll be cast free in 6 weeks...we'll see.

After Meltdown Monday and the long cast, everything else seems easy.  I am making adjustments to my routine, and receiving tons of help from sweet friends and family.  Tasks as simple as putting in a ponytail, blow drying and styling my hair, removing items from an oven, opening a can of soda, twisting off a lid, and signing my name are things I can no longer do by myself.   Yummy dinners have been delivered to my house each night this week, several hands have taken a turn at styling my hair.  I now have two incredible helpers working under my direction to get things done at my house.

My wings may be clipped, my wrist broken and bound, but I am actually okay.